


Doctor, Doctor (I've got a bad case of loving you)

by veenae



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, daddy!stiles, doctor!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veenae/pseuds/veenae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles would never be that parent that ran to the emergency room every time his kid sneezed. (He totally would.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor, Doctor (I've got a bad case of loving you)

Stiles had vowed that one day when he had kids of his own, he would never be that kind of parent who kicked up a fuss and ran to the emergency room every time his kid would so much as cough in his presence. A promise that came about from watching Scott do just that when little four-month-old Vicky McCall sneezed one weekend, albeit there was a hilarious moment when Scott's eyes widened in sheer horror and he had done a fine interpretation of running around like a chicken without a head before he all but ran to the hospital.

(Vicky was fine, Melissa shed tears from laughing so hard; they don't talk about the incident ever again.)

Now, six years later, Stiles was eating his words as he paced around the small examination room where the nurse had left them with a fleeting, “the doctor will be right with you, Mr. Stilinski.”

That had been only five minutes ago, even though it felt like an eternity.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Hale,” a voice comes from the doorway and Stiles absolutely does not startle or flail in shock when he didn’t hear the man approaching the room. Nope. Not at all.

Stiles turns around, a hand over his chest, and a sharp retort about making some noise as he walks on the tip of tongue when his brain just stops working at the sight of the doctor. And stares.

Holy God.

He may actually be hallucinating.

“You don’t look like a doctor,” Stiles hears Connor say from where he is sitting patiently on the table with a confused look on his face and Stiles can only nod in agreement, glad he’s not the only one who thinks so.

“Oh yeah?” Dr. Hale asks, raising one eyebrow in the way that Stiles never mastered. “And what does a doctor look like?”

_Well it’s certainly not like a Greek god in obscenely tight jeans_ , Stiles thinks to himself, and for a moment he thinks he’s said that out loud when Dr. Hale’s gaze flits over to him, but then Connor speaks, and Dr. Hale picks up the chart from the desk.

“He wears doctor clothes,” Connor says. “A white robe. And he has a… thingy… around his neck.”

“Stethoscope,” Stiles supplies automatically, his eyes still resting on the Henley the doctor is wearing, and the way it stretches wonderfully over his broad shoulders.

“Yeah,” Connor adds.

“Well I’m actually not supposed to be here for another half hour, so I haven’t had time to put on my scrubs yet,” Dr. Hale replies easily, but he pokes his head out of the room all the same and says, “Erica, could you please bring me my coat?”

The blonde nurse from before materializes about two seconds later, holding out the white coat to him. “Apparently I don’t look like a doctor,” Dr. Hale tells her, and Erica laughs in response.

Dr. Hale slips it on, and my god, no one should look that good in a white coat, ever. Stiles swallows slowly, taking in a deep breath, because forget Connor being sick, Stiles is pretty sure he’s about to pass out.

“So Connor,” Dr. Hale says, blissfully unaware of the affect he’s having on Stiles, “what seems to be the problem today?”

Both Connor and Dr. Hale turn to look at Stiles expectantly, and huh that’s an interesting color eyes, some grey-ish green and gold, and god that’s just not fair. “Mr. Stilinski?” Dr. Hale asks after an awkward moment when Stiles doesn’t answer, and what was the question again?

“Stiles,” he says after snapping out of it and quickly clears his throat. “Yeah, he was uh coughing earlier… I was just… worried…” And wow he feels silly saying that, like one of those first-time parents that freak out at everything their child does.

(And he’s totally not. He’s had years of practice with the McCalls that he knows exactly how _not_ to act!)

“I see,” Dr. Hale says, turning back to Connor. “Does your throat hurt, Connor?”

“Not really,” Connor says and watches Dr. Hale snap on a pair of gloves before grabbing a tongue depressor and a penlight.

“Can you say ‘ah’ for me, buddy?” Connor complies, and Dr. Hale goes about checking all of his vitals and that really shouldn’t be as distracting at it is. “Well,” Dr. Hale says a few minutes later as he pulls off the latex gloves and throws them in the trash. “Connor does seem to have a little sore throat, but it’s nothing some chicken soup won’t cure. I could prescribe some medicine but honestly I think you’ll do just fine without it.”

“I see,” Stiles replies. “So that’s good news, huh, Connor? Guess we’re having some chicken soup for dinner tonight.”

“Also, lots of fluids,” Dr. Hale adds as he helps Connor down from the table. “But if anything, well you know where to find me.” He kneels down then, snatching a sheet of stickers from the desk. “You know, I wish all my patients were as good as you were today,” he tells Connor, who giggles from the praise. “So why don’t you pick your reward?”

Connor points to a Batman sticker and practically preens when Dr. Hale pastes it on his hand. “Look daddy! Batman!”

“Good choice,” Stiles replies, ruffling his hair. “Now let’s say bye to Dr. Hale, shall we?”

“Bye Dr. Hale!” Connor waves at Dr. Hale and heads out the door. Dr. Hale smiles then, just a small smile, with the barest hint of teeth, but makes his eyes crinkle in the corners and Stiles realizes just how screwed he is when he is so distracted by the sight that he promptly walks into the door.

So, so screwed and he doesn’t even know the doctor’s first name.


End file.
